


Charles

by AliceTenenbaum



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:08:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceTenenbaum/pseuds/AliceTenenbaum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An insomniac vampire who finally gets a taste of freedom when he bumps into someone on the streets and has a chance to actually make a friend. Bad summary is bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Why couldn't he sleep? He should be asleep right now. The sky was a beautiful, light blue with a few fluffy white clouds here and there. The color blue was his favorite, but blue skies were a bad sign for him; that meant that the sun was out and his grey skin burned painfully in the sun. Now he had to stay in that dreadful museum all day. He liked museums, but he had been stuck there many times on other days he couldn’t sleep, so he had already seen everything there was to see, including the “employees only” sections, but there was nothing but cleaning supplies in there. He went to the museum's small, nearly empty cafe and waited at the counter.  
The few other people stared at him; everyone was so interested in why his skin was grey. Or why is eyes were red. Or why his ears were pointy. Or why he had fangs. He usually just ignored them. People had been staring at him for over 300 years and he had gotten pretty used to it. Fortunately, there was at least one person there who treated him like everyone else.  
“Mornin', Charles,” the man behind the counter greeted.  
“Good morning, Larry,” Charles greeted back with a weak, toothy smile.   
Larry noticed that Charles was different, but he never questioned him. Larry was probably the closest friend, being only a worker at the museum's cafe, but he knew very little about Charles, besides the fact that he couldn't sleep.  
“Still can't sleep, huh?” Larry asked, leaning over the counter.  
“No,” Charles sighed, rubbing his eyes; noticeable dark bags sagged beneath them. “What I wouldn't give for someone to punch me out right now.”  
“Can't help you there, pal. Sorry. Can I get you somethin' else?”  
Charles thought for a minute. He was hungry, but he wasn't in the mood for human food. He couldn't ask for a bag of blood either, so he just continued to think.  
“Could I get a glass of warm milk? I hear that helps people fall asleep.”  
Warm milk wasn't on the menu, but Larry nodded; if it could potentially help Charles get some shut eye, he would get it for him. The bags under the poor guy's eyes looked heavy enough to pull the skin on his face off completely. Larry went to the kitchen and quickly heated up a tall glass of milk, then brought it to Charles.  
“Here you are. One glass of warm milk. Hope it helps.”  
“Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?” Charles asked, reaching into his front pocket to grab his wallet.  
“Don't worry about it. Its not on the menu, so I won't charge you anythin' for it.”  
“Oh, Larry, you are too kind,” Charles thanked.  
Still, he took out his wallet and pulled out a dollar and dropped it in the tip jar before walking to a corner table, well away from any windows. He sat down in one of the two chairs and ran a hand down his face, sighing loudly in exhaustion. He gave the glass a good, long stare before he picked it up and chugged the entire thing in one go. He sat the empty glass back down and let out his breath, wiping away any milk remnants on his upper lip. Charles closed his red eyes and took a deep breath, them let it out; he began to focus on the warmth in his belly, hoping it would help make him drowsy. He waited for a few more minutes, and a few more, then he began to get frustrated, frowning in disappointment. Why was this not working?  
Larry watched as Charles chugged the glass and shut his eyes. After a few minutes, he thought he was actually asleep, but then he saw him fidgeting. He left to clean up for a little bit, coming out every so often to check on Charles. His eyes stayed closed, but he definitely wasn't asleep. After about 30 minutes, Charles' eyes had opened and he looked defeated; his lips were bent into a frown, his eyes watered, his chest rose and fell heavily. Larry really felt bad for the guy; he was here at least twice a week, wandering the museum-he couldn't be enjoying himself at all-never leaving until it was closing time, but even then he stayed in the shade of the building until the sun was down. He felt like he had to help Charles. He was such a nice guy and his most frequent customer, the least he could do was give him some advice. Luckily, his shift ended in a few minutes, so he would go talk with him.  
Charles was so angry with himself not being able to sleep. He was always stuck in this stupid museum it seemed, and he couldn't leave until the sun went down. His vision became blurry with tears and he felt his lip tremble. His breathing got heavy and he clenched his fists on the table. He looked up and through his tears, he saw the shape of who he assumed was Larry take his apron and began to make his way over. Quickly, Charles wiped his red eyes; sure enough, Larry calmly came to his table and sat in the other chair.  
“Hey, how are you doin'?” Larry asked, though he already knew the answer.  
“I still can't sleep. I'm so angry and I want to get out of here but I can't! Maybe if I could go somewhere different I wouldn't be so upset about not being able to sleep!”  
“Well, why don't you just leave? There's nothin' stoppin' you.”  
Charles was silent for a minute, his breathing was still heavy and angry.  
“The sun,” he said finally.  
“What about it?”  
“That's whats keeping me from leaving.”  
“Why's that?”   
“It burns me. I take one step outside and I feel like an ant under a sadistic child's microscope!”  
“Oh my. Why does it burn you so badly?”  
Larry's inquisitive questions were beginning to bother Charles. He didn't need to know everything about his sun “allergy”. Unfortunately, Larry was his only friend and snapping at him to stop would scare him away. He didn't want to be alone as well as bored out of his mind.  
“It...it just does,” Charles finally answered.  
“Have you tried sunblock?”  
“It has no effect. The sun goes right through it.”  
“What about an umbrella?”  
Charles opened him mouth to speak, then closed it again. He paused, then stared into Larry's eyes.  
“I haven't thought of that,” he said in surprise.  
“Do you have one?”  
“No. I happen to enjoy the rain.”   
“The gift shop here sells them. Ten bucks a piece I think.”  
Charles' face lit up and he stood, shaking Larry's hand excitedly. He might actually be able to make it out of this place! In broad daylight!  
“Larry, my friend, you have no idea how much you've helped me just by suggesting this! Thank you, I can't say it enough, thank you!”  
“Oh, uh, well, glad I could help.”  
With that, Charles made his way to the gift shop, careful to avoid the bright lights shining in from the windows. In the far left corner of the shop was a container full of umbrellas. Most of them had patterns of famous paintings, none of which he was interested in. The only umbrella that caught his eye was the one patterned with The Scream on it. Its colors were the darkest available, and while he was not fond of The Scream, that one would have to do. He brought the umbrella to the check out counter, paid the $10, and he felt his heart flutter, regardless of if it was still beating or not. He thanked the man at the counter and nervously walked to the exit. He took many deep breaths in preparation; this was it-he could finally leave this god-forsaken, boring museum. He opened the door and held his breath, opening his umbrella. He closed his eyes and stepped out into the blazing sun, the shade of the umbrella over him. He waited for the burning on his skin, but he felt nothing. He slowly opened his eyes to see that he was standing outside in broad daylight. He got weird stares from the patrons of the museum, but he was too excited by being able to leave to care. His eyes watered out of joy and he quickly wiped them before anyone could see. He would have to thank Larry for this again. He was free.  
Charles took a first few nervous steps, than a few more confident, then finally he was walking at his normal pace, exploring the sights of the city in clear light. Of course he had to be sure not to stick any of his body out from under the umbrella's shade, and readjust its position as he turned corners, but he was finally enjoying himself. Good god, he had been waiting fifty years for this to happen, to finally be able to walk freely in the sunlight. His eyes were filled with wonder as he could finally see how tall the buildings were, how colorful shop windows were, and just how many people were in this city. He was so filled with amazement that he failed to notice the young woman, also not paying attention, who was coming right at him.


	2. Chapter 2

Seconds later, the two collided; they both yelped in surprise, knocking each other to the ground. The umbrella flew out of Charles' hands and skidded across the pavement. Almost immediately, the sun began to burn him, working its way through his clothes. His entire body felt like it was on fire. He erupted into screams of pain and writhed on the ground. The woman began to panic, looking around for anything to help; she spotted him umbrella on the ground a few feet away and quickly retrieved it, rushing to cover him. People watched and passes as he calmed his hysteric cries and shouts. He sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes before looking up at the woman who ran into him.  
“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” she apologized, reaching down to hep him up. “I vasn't paying any attention to vhere I vas going. Are you alright?”  
As his yes cleared, he could see that she had long, red hair, beautiful green eyes, and a scar that trailed from her brow, down her left cheek, and to her jaw. She wore a blue dress with white polka dots and a pair of creme colored sandals. She handed him his umbrella while he held his head so it would stop spinning.  
“No, I'm not alright, I wasn't looking either. Its not your fault,” he answered her.  
“Do I need to take you to a hospital? Are you seriously injured?”   
“No, no, only a few burns, nothing that hasn't happened before.”  
“Can I get you anyzhing? A drink? I can drive you to your car. God, I'm so sorry.” She had a thick German accent but spoke perfect English.  
“I don't have a car.”  
“Vell, can I drive you home?”  
“I...” Charles didn't really have a home. He just had a hotel room that he had been staying in for the past 20 years. “I suppose.”  
“My car is only a few blocks avay. Follow me.”  
He followed her down the busier streets of town; she walked unusually fast and it was difficult to keep up with her. Finally they reached a car; a cute, little VW Beetle. She unlocked the doors and Charles hurriedly got in, slamming the door behind him. He was suddenly nervous;he willingly followed a stranger into her car. Sure she showed intent to help him, but she could easily drive him someplace and kill him. No doubt she was thinking something along the same lines as that about him. He could direct her to his home, have her come inside, then kill her. But she seemed to have faith in him that he would do no such thing. She was helping him home after he got hurt.  
“Tell me vhere I need to go,” she said buckling her seat belt.  
“Goodrest Hotel. Do you know where that is?” he asked, buckling his seat belt as well.  
“I believe so. You like zhere?”  
“Yes. And please, try to stay out of the sun.”  
“I'll try my best.”  
She turned on the car and backed out of the parking spot. Almost immediately, she pulled out into the bright sun; Charles hissed in pain and flipped down the visor on the room.  
“Scheiße! I'm sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry!” she apologized profusely as she had to continue driving into the sun.  
Charles had to keep quiet or he would scream. She couldn't help that the sun was shining on him whichever direction she drove. He prayed that she knew where he was going and they would get there fast. At one point, his hand began to smoke from too much exposure to the light. She began to panic again and sped up as fast as she dared to go; the hotel wasn't far away now.  
“Oh god, your hand,” she worried. “I'm so sorry about this.”  
“ Just get me home, please,” he said through his teeth, his voice strained as he gripped the leg of his pants with his burning hand.  
He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing, focusing on anything but his hand. He couldn't let her see him panic or she would panic even more. Suddenly, the car lurched to a stop; his eyes snapped open and the familiar building of the hotel filled his view. She unlocked the doors and he immediately ran to his room, #13, shoved his room key in, threw open the door, and rushed inside. He was flooded with relief s his dark room cooled his skin. He dropped to his knees and let out an exhausted sigh.  
“Are you alright now?” he heard her ask.  
He looked up to see her standing in his dimly lit doorway; she squinted in the dark to find him.  
“I am doing much better, thanks to you. I very much appreciate you driving me here. Would you like to come in? You may want to turn on the lights. They're right next to the door.”  
“Zhey von't hurt you, vill zhey?”  
“No. Only sunlight hurts me.”  
She felt around the wall until she found the light switch, flipped them on, and closed the door behind her. As her eyes adjusted, she could now focus on this strange man and his surroundings. His room had a single bed, the coverings a dull blue, the walls were a drab creme color, there was a small TV, a closet and a bathroom. A decent-sized desk sat in the corner. That was it. His room was dreadfully boring. The man himself, however, was the opposite. He had pitch black hair parted to the left, the bottom layer of his hair was shaved and growing back in nicely. He had pointy ears and a pair of equally pointy fangs resting over his grey bottom lip. The rest of his skin was grey as well, which contrasted strongly with his bright red eyes that had the tiniest pupils she had ever seen. And to top it all off, he wore an expensive-looking, light blue vest on top of a white, long sleeve button up shirt with khaki slacks. His shoes were a pair of black chucks. He was a plethora of colors.  
“You like here?” she asked.  
“Yes. It is dull, little room, I know, but I've been living here for nearly 20 years, so I honestly couldn't care less anymore.”  
“Tventy years? In a hotel room? Do you not own a house?”  
“No, nor do I have the desire to own one. I've been on this earth for longer than anyone should be and I have found that fancy living is not worth the effort.”  
“Alright,” she nodded, giving him a strange look. “By the vay you are dressed, I vould have assumed you vere a rich businessman or somezhing.”  
“Oh, I am rich, definitely. I simply chose not to own a ridiculous amount of things.”  
“Vhere do you vork?”  
“Nowhere. My family left me a huge fortune when they died in the late sixteen hundreds. All of it is mine now, I just haven't spent it.”  
She continued to give him a strange look. Charles became nervous again; he was probably making her uncomfortable or really freaking her out. He wasn't good with strangers. They hadn't even introduced themselves yet!  
“It has just occurred to me that you have driven me home and neither of us know each other's names. I am Charles Jamethson,” he introduced himself and put out a grey hand to shake.  
“Alice Tenenbaum.”  
She shook his hand; his skin was cold and soft. It sent a shiver down her spine, but she politely concealed it.  
“Alice. You know, I have always been fond of that name. Its an older name and I haven't met anyone with it in decades.”  
He felt that he was warming up to Alice quickly. Maybe they could become friends. His life was so boring and just having someone in his house with him brightened it up a bit. He flashed her a friendly, sharp-toothed smile; he hoped it wasn't creepy. She took her hand from his and looked around the room absently.  
“Vell, can I do anyzhing else for you?” she asked him.  
“I can't think of anything, so no. You've already helped me a great deal.”  
“Alright, vell, if there's nothing, I'll be in my vay. Your umbrella is by the door.” Their eyes met awkwardly for a few seconds before she turned to leave. “I guess I'll see you around, Charles.”  
“Yes. Goodbye, Alice. Do be aware of where you're walking,” he joked.  
She laughed a huff through her nose just before she closed his room door.


End file.
